21 December, 2014

The Gathering Night is set in
Mesolithic Scotland around 6150 BC, when an underwater landslide off the coast
of Norway (the Storegga Slide) caused a tsunami that devastated the east and
north-east coast of Scotland. All the characters are fictional.

The
Auk people live on the coasts and islands of what is now the western Highlands
of Scotland, grouped into individual families who come together once a year at
the Gathering in late summer. One autumn, Bakar, a young hunter, disappears
without trace from his family’s winter camp. At around the same time, four
young men of the Lynx people arrive on the west coast, having crossed all the
way from the east coast where their lands have been destroyed by a catastrophic
tsunami. Three of the Lynx men stay among the Heron people, south of Auk lands,
and one, Kemen, comes on alone to the Auk people. At the Gathering, Kemen is
accepted into the Auk people, marries an Auk girl who has just survived a
murderous attack by an unknown assailant, and is accepted into the family of
the missing Bakar. These events cause some resentment among other Auk families,
notably the family of the assaulted girl and the Auk hunter who hoped to marry
her himself. When Kemen’s brother Basajaun also turns up in Auk lands, having
left the lands of the Heron people, conflict flares. Have these Lynx refugees
brought ill fortune to the Auk people? And what are the Auk people going to do about
it?

The Gathering Night is an unusual
novel. It doesn’t really have a plot as such, although the mystery around
Bakar’s disappearance and its eventual resolution provides a loose structure.
The narrative is structured as a group of people taking it in turns to speak
around a campfire, telling of events that happened several years previously.
There is not really a central character, either. This is an egalitarian society
in which people think of themselves primarily as part of a group or groups – a family,
the Auk people – and only secondarily as individuals. The only one who seems to
have something resembling a modern sense of self is Kemen’s brother Basajaun,
and when he says to Kemen after the destruction of their lands and tribe, “A
man is his own self”, Kemen is fearful and disturbed by this strange attitude.
So characterisation in the conventional sense is limited, and the voices of the
various narrators all sound very similar. I could sometimes tell who was
speaking if I forgot to look at the tag line because of the different roles
they play – shaman, hunter, child, young woman, wife, mother – but rarely from
the style of speaking, because their society does not work that way.

What
makes The Gathering Night stand out
is its wonderful portrayal of daily life as it might have been for the
Mesolithic people of western Scotland about 8,000 years ago. This period of
pre-history, before the coming of agriculture, is so far removed from the
modern world that it’s difficult to even begin to imagine what it might have
been like to live at that time. Almost nothing is known, as there are no
written records and very few physical remains. Archaeology has identified the
sites of some camping places, food debris such as shell middens and nutshells
provide some information about the diet, and stone tools say something about
the technology available. But the cultural, social, artistic and spiritual life
of the people who used the tools and ate the food is completely unknown. The
author has imagined how it might have been by drawing on the traditions of more
recent nomadic and hunter-gatherer societies such as the Sami, Inuit and Native
Americans. Language is also completely unknown, so the author chose Basque
names for the characters, as Basque is thought to be the only pre-agricultural
language surviving in western Europe.

From
these sources, together with the author’s own forays into hunter-gatherer
skills (such as building a coracle), The
Gathering Night creates a Mesolithic society complete with details of the hunting
and gathering skills that might have been used, the wide range of foods
utilised at different seasons, the reckoning of time and location, travel among
the islands and lochs of the west coast, social organisation, conventions and
values, spiritual beliefs, rituals, art and storytelling. We cannot possibly
know what Mesolithic Scotland was really like (short of time travel), but The Gathering Night imagines it as a
richly complex culture and brings it to vivid life on the page.

The
Author’s Afterword outlines some of the sources underlying the novel, and hints
at some of the places involved. There is no map because, as she says, “my
characters imagined their land in other ways.” However, the landscape
descriptions are so detailed and appealing that I couldn’t help trying to
figure out how they might fit into the modern geography, and after an enjoyable
hour or two with maps of Ardnamurchan, the Isle of Mull, Ardgour and Argyll, I
reckon I can make a stab at identifying ‘Mother Mountain Island’ and ‘Gathering
Loch’ at least, and maybe some of the other locations.

Beautiful
portrayal of Mesolithic Scotland as it might have been about 8,000 years ago.

19 December, 2014

This casserole
is warming, easy to make, and a versatile user-up of odds and ends of
vegetables. In this version I’ve used chicken pieces, although you could also make
it with leftover turkey if you have a lot of turkey to use up after the Big
Day. It’s a complete meal cooked in one pan, so the washing up is minimal, and
if you use tinned pulses it will take under an hour to make.

You
can vary the vegetables as you choose, depending on what you like and what you
happen to have available. Carrot, parsnip, turnip, swede* and cooking apple
would all be quite at home. Similarly, you could use butter beans or haricot
beans instead of chick peas.It’s the
sort of recipe that’s more of a general guide than a set of specific
instructions, and will probably be different every time you cook it. Here’s the
version I made the other day, in the middle of a busy week.

Soak
the chick peas in cold water overnight. Rinse the soaked chick peas three or
four times, then put them in a saucepan, cover with cold water, bring to the
boil and then simmer for about 1 hour to 1 hour 15 minutes until tender. If
using tinned chick peas, follow the instructions on the tin.

If
using chicken wings, halve them at the ‘elbow’ joint. This is quite easy with a
sharp and strong cook’s knife. I find it easier to cut just on the lower side
of the joint, where the wing has two small bones instead of the single thick
bone in the upper part of the wing.

Peel
the butternut squash, scoop out the seeds in the core, and cut the rest into
chunks about 1.5 - 2 cm (0.5 - 1 inch) cubed.

Trim,
wash and slice the leeks.

Remove
the seeds from the red pepper and cut into pieces about 1.5 cm (about 0.5 inch)
square.

Peel
the mushrooms. Quarter them if small, or slice them if large.

Peel and
chop the onion. Peel and crush the garlic.

Peel
the potatoes and chop them into dice about 1 cm (about 0.5 inch) cubed.

Brown
the chicken pieces in cooking oil in a large saucepan over a medium heat.

Add
the chopped onion, squash, leeks, pepper and mushrooms. Fry until the
vegetables are starting to colour. Stir in the crushed garlic.

Add
the cooked chick peas and diced potatoes, along with the water, paprika and
medlar jelly. Season with salt and black pepper.

Bring
to the boil, then reduce the heat and simmer for 30-40 minutes until the
chicken and vegetables are all cooked. Stir from time to time, especially
towards the end of the cooking time, as the potatoes tend to stick to the
bottom of the pan when they are nearly cooked. If it starts to get dry, add a
bit more water.

*I
believe previous discussions here established that the root vegetable that’s
called ‘swede’ in the UK is called ‘rutabaga’ in the US

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About Me

I'm a scientist with an interest in history, particularly the history of Britain in the 5th-10th centuries AD (i.e. between the departure of Rome and the Norman invasion).
I write scientific journal articles, for which I get paid, and historical and fantasy fiction, for which I don't. I'm a keen hillwalker, though I live in the flatlands of East Anglia.
I'm a devotee of BBC Radio 4, the network that justifies the license fee all by itself.
Carla Nayland is a pen name.